Well I cannot leave for long. I know some people have been asking what happened to the blog. Well the answer was/is simple... I had quit. I don't remember, probably the last one, you can go back and read, if you would like.
On a more serious note, there's been a lot happening in the world. I'm not going to rehash it right now but just a simple nod at it and know that it has been addressed. I know there is place in the after for us all and that's good enough for me.
The pub has been quite a bit active lately. I must have been missing something for quite a few weeks as the attendance had been lacking. However, it's good to see a few new faces, hopefully these will stick around and learn the secret ways of the pub.
Honestly, there are no secrets.
So you all may know of my dislike for the Bistro and some of it's denizens. Well prince of the bistro who apparently enjoys the nightlife on this side of the Patapsaco decided to make a royal ass of himself, as usual.
I'm not one to launch bricks for no proper reason, but this guy is aiming to get himself done. First he goes off and yobs off after the sheriff as he happened to be walking the bar next-door. Later he tries to front up on the manager in black. History should tell you a little bit but I'm not even one to push my luck with the manager in black. He's a shady enough mid-western character to begin with and only, well nothing good comes out of Detroit.
Anyways, enough of dealing with stupidity.
Congrats to LOSC for winning something or the other. heehee
Congrats to ManYoo on winning the league... 19. And a proper nod to the ones who unfurled the banner in Anfield.
Congrats to ManShitty for being not so shitty and getting the Fuck All cup.
And a big cake to West Ham, sorry my friends. I understand there was a bit of a fracas at the end of season dinner. I don't see Ba staying there.
Well next week should see the final nails in the coffin for some. It will also be the return of the Crescendo!
Next grand plans... thinking of moving the blog, but still undecided.
We will see... we will see...
~LeChat
Showing posts with label bistro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bistro. Show all posts
16 May 2011
25 October 2010
Man City Away
11 men went to play.. went to play at City!
Ah, what a great way to end the week. THREE points, unbelievable three points but three points none the less. I was convinced of the draw, even after City went down a man. Statistics has it that once a team goes down, usually the team with advantage has a hard time getting to goal.
However, like everything else, the Arsenal flaunts its shoulders against all odds. Watching the boys get out there and start kicking back, as well as gently caressing the ball along the pitch in that silky smooth way was a joy.
I swear a slight tear formed in my eye as this was starting to look like the team of old. By old, I mean even before Wenger was a household name in Islington. Ye Olde Arsenal was a tough nugget, hated throughout the league, known for kicking the sin out of all heretics and punching one in before the 90 was up.
I could wax on and on about this and that, about when George Graham took over, about when Wenger took over and changed the league, about the emergence of unknowns to penultimate super stardom, about the nastiness given to the club in the media; YEARS and years of it.
Now it looks as if a perfect storm of good ol'English stick a boot in with the smooth flavour of continental passing and speed of fleet footed footballers on beautifully manicured pitches has come to fruition.
I can really only get into the Sunday action at the pub though. Saturday was spent at my cousin's wedding. I watched the morning games from bed or on the tubes. I did download the Football Manager demo, which is pure class. If you ever were a proponent of the old SI Champ Manager, then this is the series you want to play.
So Sunday it is, made it down for the second half of the ManYoo game, which I paid about five minutes of attention to. I think I was talking to the Deputy about food or something, when the Sheriff turned around and said one of the best lines of the week.
YES a direct quote. He tried to recover but I know what I heard. It kind of reminded me of this picture.
Fine, don't get all mad at me but it's the truth. Now personally I have no problems with you loving on each other like so, that's all well and good. I mean didn't the Greeks do that as well? Just keep it in Manchester.
Anyways, by the time the ManShitty game came on, ManCity himself was quite a few sheets to the wind. He reminded me of the gentleman's wager we had going on and was proper fired up for the match. Too bad it wasn't going to be his day. Originally he was going to head to the bistro to cause a riot but he didn't feel like dealing with the American Football traffic on the south-side.
There was a good crowd on hand for both clubs, which was good to see. HalfArseDean was slumped in the corner being angry. I swear it's quite unusual for him. Myself, or so ManCity himself kept telling me, was out of sorts as well. I don't know.. I think my cousin's wedding killed my spirit. It's the middle of the first half of the football season and you're going to get married. WHAT? Anyways that's all said and done.
So today as I was doing my daily perusal of the Guardian. I found this equally brilliant quote. Now me and Michel P aren't always on the same side of the ball but this is one issue I think we both agree on. I'm just going to totally lift it, damn you copyright.
The one true beauty in football is the flow of the game, end to end. The rules, as the Argentines and Italians would say, are a mere suggestion. It is possibly one of the most natural of all the regulated sports, in my opinion.
Joga Bonito?
~LeChat
Ah, what a great way to end the week. THREE points, unbelievable three points but three points none the less. I was convinced of the draw, even after City went down a man. Statistics has it that once a team goes down, usually the team with advantage has a hard time getting to goal.
However, like everything else, the Arsenal flaunts its shoulders against all odds. Watching the boys get out there and start kicking back, as well as gently caressing the ball along the pitch in that silky smooth way was a joy.
I swear a slight tear formed in my eye as this was starting to look like the team of old. By old, I mean even before Wenger was a household name in Islington. Ye Olde Arsenal was a tough nugget, hated throughout the league, known for kicking the sin out of all heretics and punching one in before the 90 was up.
I could wax on and on about this and that, about when George Graham took over, about when Wenger took over and changed the league, about the emergence of unknowns to penultimate super stardom, about the nastiness given to the club in the media; YEARS and years of it.
Now it looks as if a perfect storm of good ol'English stick a boot in with the smooth flavour of continental passing and speed of fleet footed footballers on beautifully manicured pitches has come to fruition.
I can really only get into the Sunday action at the pub though. Saturday was spent at my cousin's wedding. I watched the morning games from bed or on the tubes. I did download the Football Manager demo, which is pure class. If you ever were a proponent of the old SI Champ Manager, then this is the series you want to play.
So Sunday it is, made it down for the second half of the ManYoo game, which I paid about five minutes of attention to. I think I was talking to the Deputy about food or something, when the Sheriff turned around and said one of the best lines of the week.
I just love Gary Neville's balls.
YES a direct quote. He tried to recover but I know what I heard. It kind of reminded me of this picture.
Classic! Need a say more? Sorry Sheriff, told you it was blog worthy and so is that picture. I think it's from one of the cups but I can't remember I must have used it in a previous blog. It just goes to prove something, doesn't it.
(self edit due to the amount of emo suicides lately, don't want to be blamed)
(self edit due to the amount of emo suicides lately, don't want to be blamed)
Fine, don't get all mad at me but it's the truth. Now personally I have no problems with you loving on each other like so, that's all well and good. I mean didn't the Greeks do that as well? Just keep it in Manchester.
Anyways, by the time the ManShitty game came on, ManCity himself was quite a few sheets to the wind. He reminded me of the gentleman's wager we had going on and was proper fired up for the match. Too bad it wasn't going to be his day. Originally he was going to head to the bistro to cause a riot but he didn't feel like dealing with the American Football traffic on the south-side.
There was a good crowd on hand for both clubs, which was good to see. HalfArseDean was slumped in the corner being angry. I swear it's quite unusual for him. Myself, or so ManCity himself kept telling me, was out of sorts as well. I don't know.. I think my cousin's wedding killed my spirit. It's the middle of the first half of the football season and you're going to get married. WHAT? Anyways that's all said and done.
So today as I was doing my daily perusal of the Guardian. I found this equally brilliant quote. Now me and Michel P aren't always on the same side of the ball but this is one issue I think we both agree on. I'm just going to totally lift it, damn you copyright.
Uefa's president, Michel Platini, has claimed introducing goal-line technology will lead to "PlayStation football" but admits that referees have to be masochists to cope with all the criticism thrown at them.He goes on to say;
One referee is not enough, not in the modern era where you have 20 cameras. It is unfair: the cameras can see everything but the referee only has one pair of eyes. Every time he makes a mistake, those cameras are there to focus on it.Which, like I said, I completely agree with. His idea is to put goal line assistants, right behind the net. While it may be better on paper than actually in practice, I think it's not a bad idea. Ice hockey has something similar going on and it seems to work out, at least they used to, I know they review stuff every now and again but then again Ice Hockey has more play stoppages than Football.
The one true beauty in football is the flow of the game, end to end. The rules, as the Argentines and Italians would say, are a mere suggestion. It is possibly one of the most natural of all the regulated sports, in my opinion.
Joga Bonito?
~LeChat
27 September 2010
West Brom at Home
REALLY! Chelski drops points a few moments before kick off and what does the good ol'Arsenal go off and do. You know what they didn't do. Couldn't even manage a draw against a side that does the good old up and down.
My usual pub forays are becoming more or less the cause of a bad heart condition. I think this whole having hope for some silverware thing is really not good for my health. I know I sound like a pessimistic person but did you watch the game this weekend.
So what else is new? Nothing.
There was an interesting article about Anelka on CNN, no less, today. It goes on about how despite his nickname, "Le Sulk", that he really is a man of principle who let's his football do the talking for him.
They went on to compare him with the likes of Cantona and Keane. You know, I personally stood behind Nico's act of telling Domenech what he thought of him. I wish more people would have done that earlier and France, just maybe, would have done a tad bit better.
Principle, such a strange concept in today's world. For example, not to belabor a point, but it's a matter of Principle that I don't even fathom the thought about going to a certain bistro to watch my football.
I know I'm not god's gift to Arsenal supporters or any kind of supporters for that sake, but there is no way I'm going to acknowledge that place as any football pub. Hell, it's not even a pub... it's a bistro.
ManCity Himself was letting me know this weekend that we should go terrorize the place but honestly, I can't do it. It's like giving in, like saying I know that you exist and that you actually have an effect on my world. Whatever, I spent too many pixels even typing about that place.
Mentioning places to watch football, the pub recently celebrated like 7 years since being open. It's kind of interesting that I've been watching football there that long as well. Myself, GrumpyGooner and a few others of our old crew started coming down to Fells as we had grown tired of the constant annoyance known as Canton.
One of my fondest memories of the old days is sitting at bar, just me and GrumpyGooner, watching Arsenal - Chelski (before they had big money). MiniMourinho was at the other end, venting and turning seven shades of blue as The Arsenal strolled up and down the pitch.
Grumpy and I were of course having a good old laugh about the game. It's always good when you are winning. At one point, MiniMourinho slaps the bar, lets out an expletive or two, pays his tab and walks out. We knew what he was thinking and what he felt. We'd been there before as well.
I don't know why that image and day sticks out in my head so much. The emptiness of the pub or the fact that we had an unspoken conversation with another supporter, whom we didn't know from Sam or Adam.
All I know is that it, the pub, has become this place where football does reside in a city which is now beginning to have a few other options.
~LeChat
My usual pub forays are becoming more or less the cause of a bad heart condition. I think this whole having hope for some silverware thing is really not good for my health. I know I sound like a pessimistic person but did you watch the game this weekend.
So what else is new? Nothing.
There was an interesting article about Anelka on CNN, no less, today. It goes on about how despite his nickname, "Le Sulk", that he really is a man of principle who let's his football do the talking for him.
They went on to compare him with the likes of Cantona and Keane. You know, I personally stood behind Nico's act of telling Domenech what he thought of him. I wish more people would have done that earlier and France, just maybe, would have done a tad bit better.
Principle, such a strange concept in today's world. For example, not to belabor a point, but it's a matter of Principle that I don't even fathom the thought about going to a certain bistro to watch my football.
I know I'm not god's gift to Arsenal supporters or any kind of supporters for that sake, but there is no way I'm going to acknowledge that place as any football pub. Hell, it's not even a pub... it's a bistro.
ManCity Himself was letting me know this weekend that we should go terrorize the place but honestly, I can't do it. It's like giving in, like saying I know that you exist and that you actually have an effect on my world. Whatever, I spent too many pixels even typing about that place.
Mentioning places to watch football, the pub recently celebrated like 7 years since being open. It's kind of interesting that I've been watching football there that long as well. Myself, GrumpyGooner and a few others of our old crew started coming down to Fells as we had grown tired of the constant annoyance known as Canton.
One of my fondest memories of the old days is sitting at bar, just me and GrumpyGooner, watching Arsenal - Chelski (before they had big money). MiniMourinho was at the other end, venting and turning seven shades of blue as The Arsenal strolled up and down the pitch.
Grumpy and I were of course having a good old laugh about the game. It's always good when you are winning. At one point, MiniMourinho slaps the bar, lets out an expletive or two, pays his tab and walks out. We knew what he was thinking and what he felt. We'd been there before as well.
I don't know why that image and day sticks out in my head so much. The emptiness of the pub or the fact that we had an unspoken conversation with another supporter, whom we didn't know from Sam or Adam.
All I know is that it, the pub, has become this place where football does reside in a city which is now beginning to have a few other options.
~LeChat
01 March 2010
Stoke Away
Every Monday I seem to forget what happened on Saturday. This Monday being no exception. I won't tell you my secret on how I figure things out but somehow I do.
Saturday
The morning started out well enough. Earlier the previous evening, I believe, ManCity himself sent me a message concerning my allegiances for the days early game. I did not declare one but did let him know that the ball is round and he shouldn't worry too much of the result.
So Chelsea City it was. All nice and lined up for a proper little show. I will admit ChelskiBoys v. ManCity himself was going to make an entertaining breakfast treat.
I took a seat at one end of the bar, just to get a good view. To be honest, all I can remember is several chants about random things. ChelskiGirl looking particularly angry and about to glass ManCity himself. I believe MiniMourhino made a good day out of it either way. He had started the day out quite a bit bouncy and was well on his way shortly after.
Myself, well lately I have found my way into a more frilly drink, or so I've been told. Something happened to me after getting sick when it had snowed. I have not been able to drink more than one or two beers, so I've found solace in Cuba Libres. When I know it's going to be a specially long day, as Saturday was, sometimes... yes sometimes I do have a Malibu and Coke. However, some times has turned into quite often.
I think I was drinking Mount Gay and Coke, which by the way is a horrible rum to order. I almost whisper it under my breath, but when you have friends like Irish, everyone is going to know what you order.
Ah WHAT?.... Mount GAY!..... Do you want an umbrella with that?
Cheers mate, how's the world cup going for ya? OH, yah, that's right France won and we did not cheat. The ref did not blow the whistle. I do not control his whistle.
Alright, we did have a motley mob assembled for the proper match. A Certain Scouser and Pimms had shown up. I believe the Librarian, HalfArseDean, the Sheriff and Arse St. Nick rounded out the table. I may be a little foggy on this but somehow we got the Deputy to leave her beauty rest and join us as well. I think she was promised lunch and ended up with cottage chips.
All I can say is that a political conversation was started. I was told I was preaching to the choir. A Certain Scouser said that she wanted to be the Angry Black Man and somehow I became the Suburban White Chick. There was a half ton of laughter for a few hours on that one.
In character, I offered to make out the Angry Black Man but I couldn't date because my parents would kill me. Then I asked if Angry Black Man could get me a drink. To which the retort was something along the lines of "No Bitch! Get ME a drink!"
Yes, that's right, we went there several times. However, all our revelry was stopped short by a freight train of a tackle by the hand of Mr. Shawcross. I am not going to go into the whole STICK A BOOT IN ON ARSENAL rant. That was saved for Sunday but it was a horror show tackle.
Saturday Night
Clash Tribute at the Sidebar. I will say one thing. What a great show by my little band. It shaped up to be a great day. LilBlondieGooner and NightCaller showed up and had a good time, from what I understand. OH by the way, NightCaller needs a new nickname, as in he has reformed his ways but I need to think of one. Personally, I love his nickname but I did promise to give it a new look.
Anyways, funny thing happened to me at the show. I was sitting in a corner after getting off stage, talking to LilBlondieGooner, NightCaller and friends. This young girl comes up to us and starts to ask someone, thinking it was ScouseDrummer, some questions.
I noticed they were actually about me but I was in post-stage haze. She then started asking about me playing in some band I had never heard of and I guess tried to have a conversation with me. I guess I just wasn't grabbing a clue. After she leaves, LilBlondieGooner pushes me and tells me I have a groupie and should go after her.
I just shrug and say to her, Well she needs to try harder.
I thought it was funny. That's all that matters. Kind of like my other quote of the day.
I'm golden in the box but can't always finish.
I really just need to make a book of quotes. There is always the classic.
My god is a vengeful god and I'm warrior of god. I will chop your fucking head off!
Despite my lack of perception, this girl did try hard. There were some great bands and I did a lot of dancing, fueled by Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. Every time I turned around, she was beside me. ScouseDrummer even pushed me into her at one point in time. I was still on my she needs to try harder soapbox.
I will admit, it was a cute little gesture from a cute little girl. It didn't get creepy or anything and maybe I will be nicer the next time. Otherwise, my weekends are for being a complete cunt to all but my closest. Hell, I can even a bit of a twat to them as well but it's born out of pure love.
Sunday
I could be found, at the same approximate table, with the same approximate people, TWENTY FOUR FUCKING HOURS later. I have to admit, another good time watching the Scousers play. ScouseDrummer, his dad and sis showed up and joined the rowdy bunch on the couches.
MancScum were told to fuck off upstairs for the Milk Cup. I did go up and give some abuse but man it was way too depressing up there. I swear, the Scousers were lively, the game was lively and the atmosphere was a bit more than fun.
Mancs... well it was mighty grim upstairs. Their game was worst than watching paint dry on a humid mid-Atlantic day. The Villa fans were smart and stayed downstairs in the Arsenal section watching the game.
Notes of interest: I had an interesting conversation with one of the bistro boys who was there with his woman. We were just comparing the two places but understood where each other were coming from. I reiterated the story about running into the BigBistroBoy during the Canada-Russia (olympic hockey) match and how he re-introduced himself. I had shook his hand and told him I knew exactly who he was. I don't know if it came off the exact way that it had in my mind but it does make me wonder if you supposedly dislike a place so much, why do you keep showing your face in it?
I don't go and shit on the counter of your Bistro but you say all kinds of shit out of your mouth about how bad people are treated in my pub. If you don't like it, don't come here. Plain and fucking simple. Now I am not trying to start an Us v. Them type of scenario but as I explained to the bistro boys, there is nothing for me at that place. My mates who support other sides, some of whom I've been watching football with for like 7 or 8 years, plus or minus, wouldn't be welcomed there and couldn't watch FuckOff United v. SheepShagger FC at 7 AM for the Godknowswhat Cup.
That's my piece on it. My pub is a football pub, the long and short of it. As a football supporter, I will support my pub until it stops supporting me. At that time, maybe I will look for a new ground. There is still a thing called loyalty, especially when no one else in this fucking city would keep football on the television at any hour of the fucking day from 7AM to 2AM.
Prime example, the pub is showing Hockey in the evenings now. Sunday, OLYMPIC GOLD, CANADA v. USA (I do fly the Quebec flag). ACMilan comes in to watch his game. Do you know what happened? ACMilan got his game on a corner television! ONE lonely fucking ACMilan in a pub filled to the brim with Olympic Hockey fans.
Respect. Football.
oh and the puma Hard chorus....
~LeChat
OH subnote... before I forget.
Crystal Palace supporters group the 35ers are getting a good deal on season tickets. These are good games to go to and something fun to do, especially after WC2010 is done. The 35ers put other supporters to shame. In short, Let me know if you want the Crystal Palace US tickets, plus a free Crystal Palace scarf and a chance to win a trip to LONDON to see Palace at home.
Saturday
The morning started out well enough. Earlier the previous evening, I believe, ManCity himself sent me a message concerning my allegiances for the days early game. I did not declare one but did let him know that the ball is round and he shouldn't worry too much of the result.
So Chelsea City it was. All nice and lined up for a proper little show. I will admit ChelskiBoys v. ManCity himself was going to make an entertaining breakfast treat.
I took a seat at one end of the bar, just to get a good view. To be honest, all I can remember is several chants about random things. ChelskiGirl looking particularly angry and about to glass ManCity himself. I believe MiniMourhino made a good day out of it either way. He had started the day out quite a bit bouncy and was well on his way shortly after.
Myself, well lately I have found my way into a more frilly drink, or so I've been told. Something happened to me after getting sick when it had snowed. I have not been able to drink more than one or two beers, so I've found solace in Cuba Libres. When I know it's going to be a specially long day, as Saturday was, sometimes... yes sometimes I do have a Malibu and Coke. However, some times has turned into quite often.
I think I was drinking Mount Gay and Coke, which by the way is a horrible rum to order. I almost whisper it under my breath, but when you have friends like Irish, everyone is going to know what you order.
Ah WHAT?.... Mount GAY!..... Do you want an umbrella with that?
Cheers mate, how's the world cup going for ya? OH, yah, that's right France won and we did not cheat. The ref did not blow the whistle. I do not control his whistle.
Alright, we did have a motley mob assembled for the proper match. A Certain Scouser and Pimms had shown up. I believe the Librarian, HalfArseDean, the Sheriff and Arse St. Nick rounded out the table. I may be a little foggy on this but somehow we got the Deputy to leave her beauty rest and join us as well. I think she was promised lunch and ended up with cottage chips.
All I can say is that a political conversation was started. I was told I was preaching to the choir. A Certain Scouser said that she wanted to be the Angry Black Man and somehow I became the Suburban White Chick. There was a half ton of laughter for a few hours on that one.
In character, I offered to make out the Angry Black Man but I couldn't date because my parents would kill me. Then I asked if Angry Black Man could get me a drink. To which the retort was something along the lines of "No Bitch! Get ME a drink!"
Yes, that's right, we went there several times. However, all our revelry was stopped short by a freight train of a tackle by the hand of Mr. Shawcross. I am not going to go into the whole STICK A BOOT IN ON ARSENAL rant. That was saved for Sunday but it was a horror show tackle.
Saturday Night
Clash Tribute at the Sidebar. I will say one thing. What a great show by my little band. It shaped up to be a great day. LilBlondieGooner and NightCaller showed up and had a good time, from what I understand. OH by the way, NightCaller needs a new nickname, as in he has reformed his ways but I need to think of one. Personally, I love his nickname but I did promise to give it a new look.
Anyways, funny thing happened to me at the show. I was sitting in a corner after getting off stage, talking to LilBlondieGooner, NightCaller and friends. This young girl comes up to us and starts to ask someone, thinking it was ScouseDrummer, some questions.
I noticed they were actually about me but I was in post-stage haze. She then started asking about me playing in some band I had never heard of and I guess tried to have a conversation with me. I guess I just wasn't grabbing a clue. After she leaves, LilBlondieGooner pushes me and tells me I have a groupie and should go after her.
I just shrug and say to her, Well she needs to try harder.
I thought it was funny. That's all that matters. Kind of like my other quote of the day.
I'm golden in the box but can't always finish.
I really just need to make a book of quotes. There is always the classic.
My god is a vengeful god and I'm warrior of god. I will chop your fucking head off!
Despite my lack of perception, this girl did try hard. There were some great bands and I did a lot of dancing, fueled by Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. Every time I turned around, she was beside me. ScouseDrummer even pushed me into her at one point in time. I was still on my she needs to try harder soapbox.
I will admit, it was a cute little gesture from a cute little girl. It didn't get creepy or anything and maybe I will be nicer the next time. Otherwise, my weekends are for being a complete cunt to all but my closest. Hell, I can even a bit of a twat to them as well but it's born out of pure love.
Sunday
I could be found, at the same approximate table, with the same approximate people, TWENTY FOUR FUCKING HOURS later. I have to admit, another good time watching the Scousers play. ScouseDrummer, his dad and sis showed up and joined the rowdy bunch on the couches.
MancScum were told to fuck off upstairs for the Milk Cup. I did go up and give some abuse but man it was way too depressing up there. I swear, the Scousers were lively, the game was lively and the atmosphere was a bit more than fun.
Mancs... well it was mighty grim upstairs. Their game was worst than watching paint dry on a humid mid-Atlantic day. The Villa fans were smart and stayed downstairs in the Arsenal section watching the game.
Notes of interest: I had an interesting conversation with one of the bistro boys who was there with his woman. We were just comparing the two places but understood where each other were coming from. I reiterated the story about running into the BigBistroBoy during the Canada-Russia (olympic hockey) match and how he re-introduced himself. I had shook his hand and told him I knew exactly who he was. I don't know if it came off the exact way that it had in my mind but it does make me wonder if you supposedly dislike a place so much, why do you keep showing your face in it?
I don't go and shit on the counter of your Bistro but you say all kinds of shit out of your mouth about how bad people are treated in my pub. If you don't like it, don't come here. Plain and fucking simple. Now I am not trying to start an Us v. Them type of scenario but as I explained to the bistro boys, there is nothing for me at that place. My mates who support other sides, some of whom I've been watching football with for like 7 or 8 years, plus or minus, wouldn't be welcomed there and couldn't watch FuckOff United v. SheepShagger FC at 7 AM for the Godknowswhat Cup.
That's my piece on it. My pub is a football pub, the long and short of it. As a football supporter, I will support my pub until it stops supporting me. At that time, maybe I will look for a new ground. There is still a thing called loyalty, especially when no one else in this fucking city would keep football on the television at any hour of the fucking day from 7AM to 2AM.
Prime example, the pub is showing Hockey in the evenings now. Sunday, OLYMPIC GOLD, CANADA v. USA (I do fly the Quebec flag). ACMilan comes in to watch his game. Do you know what happened? ACMilan got his game on a corner television! ONE lonely fucking ACMilan in a pub filled to the brim with Olympic Hockey fans.
Respect. Football.
oh and the puma Hard chorus....
~LeChat
OH subnote... before I forget.
Crystal Palace supporters group the 35ers are getting a good deal on season tickets. These are good games to go to and something fun to do, especially after WC2010 is done. The 35ers put other supporters to shame. In short, Let me know if you want the Crystal Palace US tickets, plus a free Crystal Palace scarf and a chance to win a trip to LONDON to see Palace at home.
24 August 2009
Portsmouth at Home
First home of the season for the Arsenal and a decent show it was. The pub was alive with several Gooners, many whom I had only seen on passing occasions. I'd say it was a good 20 strong, which is a pretty decent crowd for our supporters.
I'll also give a nod for Mr. ManCity showing up on his birthday and lending his voice as we sang to the 8 or so MancScum who decided to show up. (I am actually being cordial today for some reason, don't ask why.)
As I began, the day was pretty decent; sun shining, the televisions were working, cool drinks and warm food, no major complaints from the peanuts in the gallery. However, and I should have figured on this one, LoudMouthGooner was his usual loud self.
Honestly, I don't have a problem with someone being loud from time to time but this guy is always, always loud, even for the most simplest points. That's the other end of it though, not only loud but usually very wide of the mark.
I try and ignore it but it is so hard. I usually pipe in with one or two snide comments which for the most part he can't argue with. Now, I'm not Mr. Know-it-all by far but at least I can respect another person's opinion and not have to shout mine own at them. That's so disrespectful but I don't think this guy gets it.
There came an actual point where I had enough and the argument wasn't even mine to be had. I just hated how rude he was coming off and onto a fellow Gooner. Then the brainiac started trying to come after me, overtalking and just being loud. So I do what I normally do in these situations.
I get up off my seat, walk over calmly and speak in a more hushed tone. A skill learned in customer service, someone yelling and being unreasonable, you speak quietly and slowly. This tends to throw them off and make them speak more softly.
First I corrected him on calling me an American supporter, sorry but not a big fan of Sam's Army, didn't grow up as one, never have been one, doubt I will ever be one. He backed down from the shouty rhetoric he was espousing and gave what appeared to be an apology. After which I gave him my stance on the issue and tell him how if the guy wants to speak about such and such player, then let him have his say, calm it down. Maybe in not so many words but my point was made. It was just disrespectful and that's the last thing I want to see.
Apparently, a lot more people noticed this exchange than I thought. LoudMouthGooner isn't making many friends, even amongst his own. I guess he feels he is part of something but he's alienating the very people who would include him in that something.
I headed back home for a cookout for my little cousin and decided that the weather was a little too warm. The reality was that I was being called back to the pub to meet up with ACMilan. I got to admit, one of the coolest people at the pub. He usually watches his games by himself, surrounded by the late afternoon meathead/douchebag crowd.
"Oh man, What's this? Soccer?"
"I played soccer when I was younger."
"Is this the World Cup?"
"Did you see that U.S game? That was great, wasn't it?"
I had told him before I would come out to a few games and I was feeling a need for some more football. I drop into the pub and we grab a couple of seats at the bar, order some drinks. ChelskiGirl pops in for a bit and has a Magners before going off to do her Chelski things in her Chelski world. (Barbie Girl reference if you missed it, not that she is one but that song just popped into my head.)
Meanwhile, ACMilan and I are discussing the finer points of Italian performance art surrounded by a football match, when the random guy beside me starts blurting out players names... at random.
This goes on for a while and we can't figure out if he's serious, "special" or drunk. ACMilan leans over at one point and goes "I think everyone has one of those fans. I guess this one is mine." Which is a shame since it really is just him and now this guy. The contempt on his face for this guy was classic. I couldn't help but laugh at the situation, mind you I'm sitting right next to the guy, between the two of them.
The end result was uneventful. The guy was actually wearing a Milan t-shirt with a player's name and number on the back. I can't remember who but that was a surprise and I hadn't noticed it before. I told ACMilan that I would show up for the derby next week after the Arsenal - ManU game.
I make my way down the street and at the bar next door I notice two of the more recent Arsenal converts having a couple of beers. They both head over to the bistro and I don't see them too often, so I decided to stop and say a quick hello. As usual with the Bistro Boys, they try and get me to come over for a game and how great of a place it is and how they open special for the Arsenal games.
My retort was the usual; PUB is HOME... When no one else was showing the games, they were... If I want to see FCButtcrack vs. CalcioJockitch, they will open for it... I have my loyalties.
They seem to understand but were plying hard for me to come over to the Bistro with; People are wondering where you are... they have cheap prices.. there are a ton of Arsenal supporters.
At the end of it all, we agreed to call it a draw. I can't do it, plain and simple.
Sunday - Funday had the Chelski match on. I decided to show up just to harass their lot of course. They do have a fun group of supporters. GrumpyGooner was also there so I had someone to voice my contempt with. There was one lonely Fulham fan, poor guy. We tried to lend him our support but he looked really nervous in that sea of blue. He did manage a nervous grin and head nod every now and again, Good on him for showing up and supporting his squad.
Oh and bloody Tottenham won. Bloody fahkin Spurs and their two mysterious supporters who show up. These guys are weird and not just for being Spurs fans. Just weird. An unexplainable weird which reminds me of the Catherine Tate sketch.
Monday - I did not watch the Liverpool match. I will not mention anything about that. I did however see the TallGeordie at Song's. He works near where I work, so I thanked him for letting me in line at the Chelski-Milan match and we had a short conversation about our prospective seasons. After which I offered him a Coca-Cola and we had a laugh.
It's kind of fun, taking it out of someone away from the pub and in a normal environment. The people around you have no idea what's going on and why offering someone a Coca-Cola is funny to the two pretty normal looking guys dressed in button ups and slacks.
One other quick good fortune happened today, the household television picks up GolTV. I don't understand how but I guess it's part of the standard cable package now, since the DTV upgrade. There was also some channel showing Bolton WanderersTV. I still haven't figured out exactly what channel it is because it only shows the cable company's logo at the bottom. Should probably spring for digital cable but I don't even watch television enough to even care.
C'est la vie.
~LeChat
I'll also give a nod for Mr. ManCity showing up on his birthday and lending his voice as we sang to the 8 or so MancScum who decided to show up. (I am actually being cordial today for some reason, don't ask why.)
As I began, the day was pretty decent; sun shining, the televisions were working, cool drinks and warm food, no major complaints from the peanuts in the gallery. However, and I should have figured on this one, LoudMouthGooner was his usual loud self.
Honestly, I don't have a problem with someone being loud from time to time but this guy is always, always loud, even for the most simplest points. That's the other end of it though, not only loud but usually very wide of the mark.
I try and ignore it but it is so hard. I usually pipe in with one or two snide comments which for the most part he can't argue with. Now, I'm not Mr. Know-it-all by far but at least I can respect another person's opinion and not have to shout mine own at them. That's so disrespectful but I don't think this guy gets it.
There came an actual point where I had enough and the argument wasn't even mine to be had. I just hated how rude he was coming off and onto a fellow Gooner. Then the brainiac started trying to come after me, overtalking and just being loud. So I do what I normally do in these situations.
I get up off my seat, walk over calmly and speak in a more hushed tone. A skill learned in customer service, someone yelling and being unreasonable, you speak quietly and slowly. This tends to throw them off and make them speak more softly.
First I corrected him on calling me an American supporter, sorry but not a big fan of Sam's Army, didn't grow up as one, never have been one, doubt I will ever be one. He backed down from the shouty rhetoric he was espousing and gave what appeared to be an apology. After which I gave him my stance on the issue and tell him how if the guy wants to speak about such and such player, then let him have his say, calm it down. Maybe in not so many words but my point was made. It was just disrespectful and that's the last thing I want to see.
Apparently, a lot more people noticed this exchange than I thought. LoudMouthGooner isn't making many friends, even amongst his own. I guess he feels he is part of something but he's alienating the very people who would include him in that something.
I headed back home for a cookout for my little cousin and decided that the weather was a little too warm. The reality was that I was being called back to the pub to meet up with ACMilan. I got to admit, one of the coolest people at the pub. He usually watches his games by himself, surrounded by the late afternoon meathead/douchebag crowd.
"Oh man, What's this? Soccer?"
"I played soccer when I was younger."
"Is this the World Cup?"
"Did you see that U.S game? That was great, wasn't it?"
I had told him before I would come out to a few games and I was feeling a need for some more football. I drop into the pub and we grab a couple of seats at the bar, order some drinks. ChelskiGirl pops in for a bit and has a Magners before going off to do her Chelski things in her Chelski world. (Barbie Girl reference if you missed it, not that she is one but that song just popped into my head.)
Meanwhile, ACMilan and I are discussing the finer points of Italian performance art surrounded by a football match, when the random guy beside me starts blurting out players names... at random.
This goes on for a while and we can't figure out if he's serious, "special" or drunk. ACMilan leans over at one point and goes "I think everyone has one of those fans. I guess this one is mine." Which is a shame since it really is just him and now this guy. The contempt on his face for this guy was classic. I couldn't help but laugh at the situation, mind you I'm sitting right next to the guy, between the two of them.
The end result was uneventful. The guy was actually wearing a Milan t-shirt with a player's name and number on the back. I can't remember who but that was a surprise and I hadn't noticed it before. I told ACMilan that I would show up for the derby next week after the Arsenal - ManU game.
I make my way down the street and at the bar next door I notice two of the more recent Arsenal converts having a couple of beers. They both head over to the bistro and I don't see them too often, so I decided to stop and say a quick hello. As usual with the Bistro Boys, they try and get me to come over for a game and how great of a place it is and how they open special for the Arsenal games.
My retort was the usual; PUB is HOME... When no one else was showing the games, they were... If I want to see FCButtcrack vs. CalcioJockitch, they will open for it... I have my loyalties.
They seem to understand but were plying hard for me to come over to the Bistro with; People are wondering where you are... they have cheap prices.. there are a ton of Arsenal supporters.
At the end of it all, we agreed to call it a draw. I can't do it, plain and simple.
Sunday - Funday had the Chelski match on. I decided to show up just to harass their lot of course. They do have a fun group of supporters. GrumpyGooner was also there so I had someone to voice my contempt with. There was one lonely Fulham fan, poor guy. We tried to lend him our support but he looked really nervous in that sea of blue. He did manage a nervous grin and head nod every now and again, Good on him for showing up and supporting his squad.
Oh and bloody Tottenham won. Bloody fahkin Spurs and their two mysterious supporters who show up. These guys are weird and not just for being Spurs fans. Just weird. An unexplainable weird which reminds me of the Catherine Tate sketch.
Monday - I did not watch the Liverpool match. I will not mention anything about that. I did however see the TallGeordie at Song's. He works near where I work, so I thanked him for letting me in line at the Chelski-Milan match and we had a short conversation about our prospective seasons. After which I offered him a Coca-Cola and we had a laugh.
It's kind of fun, taking it out of someone away from the pub and in a normal environment. The people around you have no idea what's going on and why offering someone a Coca-Cola is funny to the two pretty normal looking guys dressed in button ups and slacks.
One other quick good fortune happened today, the household television picks up GolTV. I don't understand how but I guess it's part of the standard cable package now, since the DTV upgrade. There was also some channel showing Bolton WanderersTV. I still haven't figured out exactly what channel it is because it only shows the cable company's logo at the bottom. Should probably spring for digital cable but I don't even watch television enough to even care.
C'est la vie.
~LeChat
10 August 2009
Charity Shield
Aww it was a lovely Sunday. I can't complain either way, for a boring game and a just result. It really is a shame that more elbows did not fly. A mean a broken nose here and a fractured cheek bone there, would have held no complaints from me.
The atmosphere at the pub was nice. A few of the choice locals, chelski and mancscum, were in attendance. It was good to see some old faces, not many new ones but I am sure that will change as the season actually begins.
There was talk of the other place...which I will call by name for it is not forsaken but I do not wish to even give it credit. It has become more of a bad joke on the pub gooners than anything else. Let's just call it the bistro. And then one must ask themselves whether they can say with a straight face, "I am going to watch the football at the bistro." Yes do it in that drawn out posh accent because that is what you will need to make it sound right.
Now I am not one to judge, so I lie, but I can not see myself going there to watch a game. There is also the issue of the fair-weather factor of it and the lack of loyalty to an establishment that has dealt with football/soccer fans when there were only a few that would come. It is a shame to turn your back on a place that would open up it's doors so that an ex-pat could watch crummy united play fc whatchacallit in the nothing worthwhile cup quadra-quarter-semi-finals.
I don't know maybe I have some weird thing about it but it is how I feel about the whole situation. Sure the prices could drop a bit. Sure they could get some new stools. Sure whatever other complaint you want to make. It doesn't really matter though because at the end of the day it's home.
It's where you belong.
~LeChat
The atmosphere at the pub was nice. A few of the choice locals, chelski and mancscum, were in attendance. It was good to see some old faces, not many new ones but I am sure that will change as the season actually begins.
There was talk of the other place...which I will call by name for it is not forsaken but I do not wish to even give it credit. It has become more of a bad joke on the pub gooners than anything else. Let's just call it the bistro. And then one must ask themselves whether they can say with a straight face, "I am going to watch the football at the bistro." Yes do it in that drawn out posh accent because that is what you will need to make it sound right.
Now I am not one to judge, so I lie, but I can not see myself going there to watch a game. There is also the issue of the fair-weather factor of it and the lack of loyalty to an establishment that has dealt with football/soccer fans when there were only a few that would come. It is a shame to turn your back on a place that would open up it's doors so that an ex-pat could watch crummy united play fc whatchacallit in the nothing worthwhile cup quadra-quarter-semi-finals.
I don't know maybe I have some weird thing about it but it is how I feel about the whole situation. Sure the prices could drop a bit. Sure they could get some new stools. Sure whatever other complaint you want to make. It doesn't really matter though because at the end of the day it's home.
It's where you belong.
~LeChat
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